


Family

by KevehKins



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Mild Language, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7734211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KevehKins/pseuds/KevehKins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year on, Cid reflects upon the Crisis that brought them all together and tries his hand at music.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All characters and settings in this story are based upon and are the property of Square Enix unless otherwise stated. No profit has been made from this piece of fiction.

Quite a difference a year makes, he thought to himself as he peered up at the clock hanging just above the doorframe. At this very hour on this very day each individual in this room said their silent goodbyes to whatever deity would hear them. If any. They had been at the precipice of the very heart of the Planet itself, after all. No sound reached or left that final cavern but for the hollow whistling of unnatural wind and the forlorn, unnerving wail of a dying planet.

Still, they prayed. None of them spoke a word of it, but he’d known they too were pleading for a miracle. He’d opted for a solitary request and hoped it would see them through to the bitter end.

_Lady Luck, don’t fail me now._

They’d descended into the Planet’s heart in silence. All jokes fell flat; any words seemed only to be shallow attempts to delay proceedings. The moment they took that first step down every face morphed into the same expression of trepidation.

He liked to think his request was heard. That it was what saw them all stand toe to toe with alien shapeshifters and demi-gods and survive. He liked to think Lady Luck guided their ship’s ascension from the Planet’s depths as they raced to escape Holy’s onslaught. And that maybe Aerith had sent Lady Luck the same plea just before the Lifestream itself burst through the ground to drive Meteor away.

The thought of the departed flower girl brought a twinge of grief to his heart. The one time Lady Luck let them down.

He set it aside in his mind. Not dismissed, but put away for another time. They’d had their moment of quiet remembrance for their fallen comrade when the evening began. They’d resolved not to allow grief to take reign beyond that.

Hell, Aerith herself would be none too pleased if they spent the whole evening mourning. He imagined her reprimanding their melancholy, hands on her hips and face unflinching.

Tonight was a night for celebrating, after all.

And as he turned to look around the room at his friends his lips parted into a small, joyous smile. For celebrating they were. They chattered and joked and laughed and recalled with fondness the better times on their journey. They’d drank, they’d feasted, oh holy hell they feasted, and now they’d spread about the room, splintered into smaller groups. Yuffie sat slouched in an armchair in the corner, her arms flopping over the sides and legs spread wide. Every now and then she let out a pained groan followed by a complaint about eating too much.

Directly across from himself, Red lay dozing by the hearth, half opening his one good eye in lazy acknowledgement if someone mentioned him by name. Barret sat at the table in the centre of the room, waxing poetic about his days in the Corel Mines and the colourful characters of his fellow miners to a giggling Shera. His daughter was nestled in his lap; taking in her father’s every word with unwavering attention. Reeve sat with them, chipping in intermittently with questions about the history of the town and the mines.

Vincent, being Vincent, had moved off into the far corner of the room, away from the others. But even he had a faint, relaxed smile on his face and an easy slump in his posture. Aerith’s mother sat next to him, or rather slept. She fell into a slumber almost as soon as the meal finished. Probably needed it, she’d looked exhausted.

Cloud and Tifa took up the corner closest to him. Tifa sat behind the piano that occupied the space, fingers gracefully floating over the keys to craft a thoughtful little melody. Cloud looked on; lips quirked upwards into a contented smile, eyelids drooping. He stood leaning on the piano top, arms crossed and hands tucked.

Yup…quite a difference a year makes.

Himself, he stood just left of the two Nibelans, surveying the room. He’d gotten up to get his cigarettes out of his jacket when he’d caught sight of the clock above the doorway.

He huffed a laugh at the thought of how strange he must look to the others, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at a clock, and then at them. Shaking his head he moved to the coat hanger beside the door, placing his near empty glass of whiskey on a little end table as he did, and fished through his coat pockets. He pulled the carton of cigarettes out, popping it open with a well practiced flick of his thumb and extracted a cigarette. Putting the cigarette to his lips he stuffed the carton into the back pocket of his jeans, reached for his glass and made for the door on the other side of the piano.

He planned to head out for a smoke, and maybe pick up a whiskey refill on his way back through the bar. But as he approached the piano, Tifa caught his eye and graced him with a warm smile.

“Play us a tune, Cid?” She asked, somewhere between sincerity and jest. He let out an amused growl, grinning awkwardly with the cigarette between his teeth. Cloud chuckled, turning his head to look at the pilot over his shoulder. His lazy expression now tippled with mirth.

Cid glared at the blonde, feigning annoyance over the laugh. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth before speaking.

“Hell are you laughin’ at kid?”

The younger man continued to smile in serene amusement.

“You just don’t strike me as musical.” He explained with a shrug. “Funny picturing you playing an instrument.”

Cid placed his glass on top of the piano, staring down at the row of ivory keys.

“Yeah cause you’re a real believable pianist. Real fuckin’ von Muir…” The older man grumbled. Cloud chuckled again, dropping his head to rest on his arms for moment before righting himself, outright grinning now.

Cid glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, a wry smile creeping onto his own face. He redirected his gaze to the martial artist seated opposite him. Tifa had been watching the exchange with amusement and mild exasperation.

“Don’t be mean, Cloud.” She reprimanded, her tone aiming for a disapproval that her expression didn’t show. The jovial smile hadn’t left her lips.

“Yeah Cloud, don’t be so fuckin’ mean.” Cid quipped, slapping Cloud on the arm with the back of his hand.

Their former leader quirked an eyebrow, shooting the pilot a pointed look before bringing his right hand out for a retaliatory slap of his own. Cid took the gentle blow, already laughing. Tifa exhaled an exaggerated weary sigh.

“Children…” She muttered, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“Children? Kid you ain’t long enough in the tooth to be calling me child.” Cid said with a grin. To his left, Cloud made to speak but the sarcastic remark that was no doubt coming had scarce time to form in the blonde’s mind before Cid had a hand up in warning. “Don’t say a damn word, Strife.”

Cloud shot him an overdone affronted look.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything.” He said, not quite maintaining his offended visage. Cid snorted and reached for his glass, swallowing what remained of the tawny liquid inside. He put the glass down on the piano top with a light thud and smacked his lips.

“Shit that’s smooth.” He said. “What’s that stuff called again, kid?” He asked Tifa.

“Pulse Whiskey.” She replied. “All the way from Mideel.”

“Pretty good, right?” Cloud asked, looking at Cid. The pilot nodded.

“Not bad at all. Might look in to getting some.”

Tifa grinned. Not an amused grin like before. No, no. He’d spent enough time around engineers and science geeks to recognise the grin on Tifa’s face as one of sudden inspiration.

“Tell you what, Cid,” She began, “You play us a tune and I’ll give you a full bottle to take home with you.” She said, hands gesturing towards the piano keys.

Cid let out another derisive snort, shaking his head.

“Pains me to admit but pinhead here’s got the right of it.” He said with a nod towards Cloud. “I ain’t a musician.”

“That’s okay, I can teach you.” Tifa immediately response. The japing quality was missing from her tone now. Her eyes were alight with a sincere enthusiasm at the prospect of teaching him. He actually felt a little guilty as he shook his head in declination.

“I don’t think so, Tee.”

She evidently expected his refusal as there came no disappointed sagging of shoulders or any other sign of dispiritedness. Instead she became even more determined to make him play.

“Come on, Cid.” She said. And she looked at him with such earnest desire that the little nugget of guilt in the pit of his stomach all but exploded into a tidal wave. She looked 21 in that moment and it struck him how, in the entire time he’d known her, and Cloud too, he’d never really thought of them as still being kids. Hell they were barely out of their teens. In truth, they’d never really had time to act their age on their journey. Moments of respite had been few and far between.

But now she sat in front of him with nothing but the desire to share something with him, here and now. Simple, heartfelt. Young. It stirred something in him.

He chewed his lip, alternating between looking at the brunette and looking down upon the piano keys. Behind him the rest of the group still chattered amongst themselves and he was all too aware of the fact that Shera was in the room, and would hear whatever cacophony his fingers conjured up if he actually played the damn piano. He glanced over his shoulder. She was still engrossed in conversation with Reeve and Barrett.

Cid turned back to face the younger pair again, gaze fixing itself upon the piano as another few beats of silence passed between the three of them.

“One song?” He asked at last, glancing up at the barmaid. Her mouth widened into a hesitant smile.

“One song” She affirmed, raising her index finger.

He nodded, and reached for his emptied glass.

“And I get a full bottle of this stuff?” He asked, twisting the glass around in his hand, maintaining eye contact with Tifa.

She nodded, beaming.

He nodded again too, putting the glass back down on the piano. Another pause and without looking at his former leader he raised his arm to point at him.

“And if I play a song I get to laugh in this numbskull’s face afterwards?” He asked, tone deadpan.

The younger two responded with easy laughter. He waited, still maintaining eye contact with Tifa as best he could, given that her own eyes were scrunched up with mirth.

“Well Cloud?” Tifa asked, composing herself. Cloud rolled his eyes, smiling all the while.

“Fine.”

The brunette turned back to face him. He nodded.

“Deal.”

“YES!” She cried out, pumping a fist in the air. She shuffled over on the bench, patting the empty space to her right. With a faux-sigh Cid popped his cigarette back between his lips and set himself down beside her.

“Okay, so.” Tifa began, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shifting closer to the piano. Her tone was different now, all business. “What are we gonna play?”

Cid shrugged in response and reached up to scratch the stubble on his chin.

“Whatever ya think, kid.” He said.

“Whatever song you like least, it’s gonna get butchered.” Cloud said, tone deadpan. Cid shot him a look. Tifa tried the same, but again her lips betrayed the smile hidden beneath her reprimanding gaze.

“We’ll see how well you play afterwards.” She quipped. Cloud passed it off with a laugh but conspicuously wandered off to join the conversation at the table a few moments later.

“Hmm. How about…this?” She said, playing a short melody. The notes echoed out of the piano, a tune as wistful as it was optimistic. It struck him as far too complicated to play.

“Jeez, kid. Break me in easy why don’t ya.” He said.

“Oh come on, it’s not that tough.” She replied. “Look, here, put your hands like this.”

She took hold of his wrists, pulling his hands into position. His fingers rested upon the keys. He peered down at them, uncertain. He was used to doing things with his hands, heck it was his specialty. But this felt strange.

“You know the major scale, right?” She asked.

He looked at her, nonplussed.

“The do, re, mi?” She said with a grin.

“Oh, yeah yeah, I know that much.”

“Okay, so the notes in this song are all from the major scale. Here, let me show you the keys.”

Tifa leaned over, pointing out each of the keys.

When she’d finished explaining, he started blankly down at the ivory, his hands hovering over them.

“Uh…little help, Tee.” She laughed and took hold of his wrists, moving his hands back into position.

She sat beside him, patient and supportive as he fumbled across the keys for the next fifteen minutes, hitting bum notes and skipping some entirely on a few treks up and down the scale.

The down was horrible, like trying to write backwards or tighten a screw by turning it left. He lost his way on the great sheet of black and white ivory more than a few times. Tifa always set him back on the right path with an easy forbearance. He peeked at the rest of the room out of the corner of his eye. The others were still engrossed in conversation. So far his little escapade into the world of music went mercifully unnoticed.

A half hour later he’d mastered going up and down the scale.

Well, maybe not mastered, but he’d gotten the gist of it well enough.

“Not bad at all, Cid.” Tifa said with an encouraging smile. “Think you’re ready to give that tune a try”.

He snorted. He’d flown an airship out of an exploding cave, he’d commandeered a rocket ship and reached the vast expanses of space, but he was nowhere near ready to face playing a piano.

Sure enough, as she started to talk him through the song, demonstrating first and then having him mimic her, any sense of competence he’d gained playing the scale was quickly eroded.

It was replaced by growing frustration. The kind he used to get when he’d spent a full day tinkering with beat down car engines and coming away with no improved result.

After the twenty-second failed attempt (or maybe, if he was being honest, the thirty-fifth) at the tune his temper broke and he found himself biting his tongue to keep from unloading with a torrent of swears.

The conversation had quieted from time to time in the last hour. It quieted again just before his fingers played out their error.

“Yo Cid, y’know you’re supposed to play a piano, man.” Barret called out from across the room, having noted the pilot’s growing irritation.

“The hell would you know? You try’n play this and you’d blow a hole in the damn thing.” He shot back, eliciting raucous laughter from the former AVALANCHE leader. It proved infectious enough that in spite of his vexation Cid ended up laughing as well. He glanced over at Shera and her face was alight with mirth, and she wore that smile he’d only seen her wear a handful of times in all the years he’s known her. After she’d saved him from doom upon the Shinra No. 26, and he’d apologised to her for all those years of abuse. When they’d all returned alive from their excursion into the planet’s depths, and now, when he was trying his utmost to succeed at something he was almost certainly doomed to fail at.

He looked away, trying to ignore the growing heat in his cheeks. He fished in his pocket for his lighter.

He lit up his cigarette and took a long puff.

“Helps me focus.” He muttered to the younger woman beside him as she raised an eyebrow.

“I think that’s the problem.” She said, leaning back and reaching for a glass ashtray on the shelf behind her. She slid it over the piano top with the practiced hand of her trade and sure enough the glass came to a stop almost immediately in front of him.

“What’s the problem?” He asked, tapping the cigarette against the edge of the ashtray, flakes of burned paper and tobacco flecked the bottom. He took another puff.

“I think you’re focusing too hard on it, thinking too much.”

“What?” He asked, furrowing his brow.

She paused a moment, staring down at the ivory with a pensive expression.

“I think you’re thinking too much about how hard you’re finding it. Like, you’re focusing too much on when you mess up and how you’re not getting it. You’re thinking too hard about one mistake and then that makes you mess up in another place.”

It made sense, even if for his part he felt he was just frustrated by the whole endeavour more so than individual errors. He shrugged.

“Well what else can I do?”

She fell quiet again, lips pursed and eyes crinkled as she silently sought a suggestion. He took another drag of his cigarette.

“I think you’ve broke her.” Cloud remarked as he sauntered up to the piano once more, nodding at Tifa’s expression. She glowered at him, face the same, pursed lips quivering as they threatened to spread into a smile.

“Why don’t you get us a drink, Cloud?” She said, amusement trickling into her voice.

“Yeah, get us a drink Cloud!” Cid repeated. “We’re over her bustin’ our asses to entertain ya’ll.”

Cloud huffed a laugh, but said no more as he reached out and took Cid’s empty glass from the piano top and disappeared through the door to the bar.

“Little shit.” The pilot muttered, eliciting a giggle from the brunette.

He idly tapped a few keys, trekking up through the major scale again. Tifa watched him do it, biting her lip and making a sound as though she blew a particularly squeaky raspberry.

“Well kid, any bright ideas?” He asked.

She murmured something under her breath that he didn’t quite catch.

“Try pretending you’re not playing a piano at all.” She said, curiosity creeping into her features.

He quirked an eyebrow, saying nothing.

“Like…imagine you’re in a cockpit and you’re getting ready to take off. And you’ve got to go through all the stuff in the right order to start the engines. All the buttons and switches and stuff, those are your notes and you’ve done it so many times you can do it without even looking now.”

He laughed a throaty incredulous chuckle.

“How much you been drinkin’?” That earned him a playful slap on the arm and a smile.

“I’m serious! Pretend you’re doing something you’re good at.”

“Fake it till ya make it, huh?” He said, still laughing.

“Just try it.” Tifa replied, rolling her eyes.

He shook his head, lifting his cigarette from its resting place in the ashtray and taking another drag. He kept it between his lips, tucking it to the side of his mouth. Placing his fingers atop the ivories again, he peered down at the keys and in spite of himself entertained the notion that they were just switches and levers on the Highwind’s control panel.

“Are you imagining?”

“Yup.” He replied.

“Seem any easier?”

“Hell no.” He laughed.  
But he readied himself, repeating the order of the notes in his head twice over. He took a steadying breath and exhaled a puff of smoke and began to play.

“Do…Re…Mi..Ti…La…” He have mouthed the sounds as he pressed down on the keys. “Do…Re…Mi…So..Fa-Fuck!” He swore as his left hand disobeyed his mutterings and hit another mi note.

“That was better though. See I told ya.” Tifa said. She, at least, remained undiscouraged. She seemed pretty pleased with her teaching technique. “Come on, try it again, just keep imagining you’re getting ready to fly.”

He hadn’t the heart to tell her that he’d stopped imagining as soon as he started playing. Or that his mumbling the words as he concentrated with all his might was what really gave him that result.

He prepared himself again.

“Do…Re…Mi…Ti…La…Do…Re…Mi…So…” He paused a split second.

“Fa…Do…Re…Do…” He muttered out and beside him Tifa hummed in unison. She erupted in applause. He’d finally wrestled out the melody. Once at least.

“Yes! Cid! I knew you’d get it if you just stopped thinking so much!” She looked so proud, he thought. Hell he felt proud himself, if only for being the source of such glee for his companion turned teacher. He said nothing of the fact he’d never thought harder than when during his successful run through the tune, worried it might deflate her joy.

“Come on, let’s try it again, with me this time.”

They played again. Again he messed up. So they started anew. He got it this time, and then another, and another. The mistakes were occurring with reducing regularity now. He knew, of course, that he was playing an exceedingly simple and repetitive motif. It was the young woman next to him, adding all the flourishes, keeping the rhythm going, actually playing the song.

That still didn’t stop him from hitting a little triumphant fist pump when he nailed the tune for the fifth consecutive time.

As Cloud sauntered back into the room with drinks in hand (more of that Pulse Whiskey, the pilot noted with approval), Cid found himself rather eager to show off his newfound piano maestro skills to his one-time leader.

“Just in time, kid” He said. “Reckon I’ve just about mastered this piano stick.”

“Oh really? A regular von Muir now huh?” He echoed Cid’s earlier jibe, one eyebrow raised. “Alright, old timer, let’s see.”

Cid shot him a displeased grimace at the ‘old timer’ remark, but said nothing more as he reset himself to play the tune. He had no talent for it, his movements across the keys were rote learned, not natural. He knew, too, that no amount of practice would ever make it anything other than what it was. But he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to have fun with it here.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, looking about himself like an orchestra conductor waiting for silence, earning another huffed laugh from Cloud and a grin from Tifa for his efforts.

“Try and keep up, Tee.” He said, scoring another laugh from the two.

“And a one – two – onetwothreefour”

He played out the melody, alone once until Tifa joined him with her own play on the second pass and carved his solitary keying from loosely joint notes into a song. He glanced up at Cloud, hoping to see surprise or marvel on the young man’s face. Instead there was a small smile with the glow of recognition in it.

He wasn’t watching Cid at all, in fact. He had eyes only for Tifa.

He didn’t so much as blink in his direction as they finished their tune and the pilot spoke.

“How ‘bout that, huh?” He said, sitting back as far as could on the backless bench and rapping a hand on the piano’s woodwork. Cloud offered no response, just continued to look at Tifa with that wistful little smile.

“I know that song.” He said. “When we were kids, you’d be practicing and sometimes your window would be open and I’d sit on my porch and just listen. You used to play that song a lot. I always liked it.”

Cid’s musical mentor blushed and lowered her eyes, a pleased smile working its way onto her lips.

_Awh nuts._

He’d never been a man of particular tact, but Cid knew when he was licked. He reached for his drink, trying to content himself in the knowledge that he’d still played a damn fine tune, even if he didn’t get to gloat as he’d been promised.

Wordlessly he rose from the bench and sidled out from behind the piano. Neither Cloud nor Tifa acknowledged his departure.

As he walked away he overheard her say “I never knew you listened to me play.” in an amorous tone he knew well enough from his days as a fresh faced dreamer.

He plopped himself down in a chair beside Shera. She, Barret and Reeve were engrossed in yet another discussion about reconstruction plans for various towns and cities damaged during the Crisis.

He tuned them out, settling himself in to spend the remainder of the evening celebrating his musical triumph by himself. Well, by himself and with a few more whiskeys.

He took a sip and smacked his lips.

He felt a hand slip under his arm and wrap around his bicep and the sudden warmth of a body pressing closer to his.

“I thought you played very well.” Shera murmured in his ear and planting a quick, tender kiss on his cheek. She turned back to rejoin the conversation, still keeping close to him, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze.

He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Prompt fic for The Lifestream's "Make Us Write Stuff" thread. Prompt: "Write a fic in which Tifa tries to teach someone piano"
> 
> Actually started working on this about a year ago. Dusted it off and reworked it a bit. Hope you enjoyed, in spite of the cheesiness. Criticism welcomed, flames welcomed too.
> 
> Written to Tifa's Theme.
> 
> All the best,
> 
> Kev


End file.
